


Dogwood Tree

by prelude_to_midnight



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: A Conference of Birds, Comfort, F/M, Flowers, Gardens & Gardening, Gentle touches, Light Angst, Memories, Reminiscing, background emwyn, background enorace, maybe background jacob/noor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:19:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24582190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prelude_to_midnight/pseuds/prelude_to_midnight
Summary: A moment between Hugh and Fiona, when she has finally returned and he reminisces on when they first met.
Relationships: Hugh Apiston/Fiona Frauenfeld
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Dogwood Tree

In a dimly lit bedroom, Fiona laid curled up sleeping on a creaking metal framed bed, with each breath she took flowers bloomed through the cracks on the wall and the spaces between the wooden floor planks, twisting and crawling across the room. Right next to her was Hugh, sitting on an ancient overstuffed armchair, the seat ripped, dull grey coils poking up into the dust laden air. It was once a soft dove grey, yet now it was more reminiscent of cigarette smoke. His bees rested within him, all except Henry who quietly buzzed about the flowers in Fiona’s hair.  
Leaning over the overstuffed arm, he gently caressed her messy, tangled hair. The Fiona lying there sleeping was not the same one who had left them, and he feared what horrors now plagued her, rotting over and setting fire to the garden in her mind.  
It was as if they were the only two in the world, despite the fact that Miss Peregrine, alongside everyone else, were huddled together by the door. They all wanted their moment of reunion with Fiona, but knew better than to take that time away from the one who needed it the most.  
Emma and Bronwyn held onto Claire and Olive’s hands, the latter hovering terribly close to the ceiling as she had removed her iron shoes lest they hinder her ability to get to Fiona fast enough. Horace stood next to Enoch, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, grumbling about what hell he would cause to the monsters who had hurt their friend. He picked one of the flowers that was bursting from cracks in the wall and threw it at Horace for no particular reason. 

“I’m gonna kill them for doing that to her.” Enoch grumbled, mostly to Horace. “And then I’m gonna revive them and I’m gonna kill them again.” 

Horace said nothing, pressing himself against the wall next to him, only praying silently to himself that no one else could hear him.  
Even Noor stayed pressed against the wall of the corridor, letting everyone else have their time with their reunited friend, she ignored Jacob’s beckoning hand and soft look. The old bird herself was hesitant, having advised Hugh to let her rest by herself but he had refused to leave her side since her return.  
Eventually, Millard pushed his way past everyone, a small blackboard and chalk floating in the air. He presented them to Miss Peregrine, who in turn looked at him curiously. 

“I thought maybe this could be a way for Fiona to communicate with us once she wakes up.” He said quietly to her. 

Her eyes softened, a hint of a smile appearing on the corner of her lips, she took Millard’s earnest tone to heart. “We can bring it up once she wakes up,” She said, turning her head towards everyone else she added. “And when she does wake up, I do not want any of you to crowd her. We must give her some time to adjust.” 

Millard took a step forward and approached them quietly, Hugh jolted and sat up straight, frankly surprised that everyone was still by the door. He handed him the chalkboard, Hugh deeply appreciated the gesture, nodding a silent thanks. Not wanting to overstay their welcome in lurking on the two, Miss Peregrine turned everyone around and sent them to rest themselves. With a collective grumble they all set off in the same direction to talk among themselves about what will happen with Fiona.  
With one last concerned look to the two, Miss Peregrine shut the door behind her and went on her way, preparing to discuss with other ymbrynes what their next course of action would be. 

Hugh rested his head on the arm, as close as he could be to Fiona, his finger gently tracing the words “I love you” down her arm. Henry nestled into a flower, buzzing softly. He wished that there was a loop he could return to where they had first met. On a brilliant day where the sun shone, out in the expansive, thriving wild garden of the house had been a dogwood tree. Fiona had been sitting underneath the shade of the tree, curled up in a book. Hugh chased his bees to where they were buzzing around her, as he had feared they might be stinging her. 

“No, I think they just like my flowers.” She had said, picking up a crimson wildflower and handing it up to him. 

He smiled, lifting his goggles and setting them on top of his newsboy cap. “Can I sit next to you?” 

“Of course.” 

Little did they know that above them in the branches were Emma and Bronwyn, trying to keep Claire and the ever-floating Olive from squealing in delight at the exchange.  
Hugh admired those flowers that grew where Fiona dwelled, those tenacious blossoms, born to take whatever came their way and make beauty of it. It is as if they called for some trees to accompany them, to make their otherwise gloomy lives brighter, to refresh the air that they breathed. There were times Fiona felt that they were nature's graffiti, a chaotic rebellious element cheering them on.  
His bees buzzed about Fiona’s garden, wings gleaming in the sunlight. Like puzzle pieces they fit together, gazing into each other's eyes. Henry landed right on her nose, and she could not help but laugh at how much it tickled.  
The air was perfumed by the heavy scent of the dogwood flowers. Their white petals were striking against the brilliant emerald grass, he found them simply beautiful. Reaching out a hand to the delicate snowy petals that had fallen from the branches above he did not know at the time that he would come to feel a sadness over this flower, after that day it would eventually grow and remind him of the fear that he would never see her again, the pure relief he felt when he did hold her in his arms again. It's scent would forever be both sickly and nostalgic, both repugnant and comforting. 

So much time had passed since then that all the days that had come before were long forgotten in Hugh’s mind. As he drifted off to sleep, Fiona groaned, slowly opening her eyes. Her blurry vision cleared to see him slumped over in the chair, snoring quietly. A small smile tugged on her lips, weakly she moved her hand to his. Gently tracing the words “I love you” on his upturned palm, she closed her eyes once more, the storms in her heart calmed as she held onto Hugh’s hand with all her might.


End file.
